


All That's Left of the Moon is a Star

by QueennorKing



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hawke's sex isn't mentioned, Mentions of Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueennorKing/pseuds/QueennorKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris gets Varric's letter and suddenly there is only one thing that keeps the world from crumbling down around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Left of the Moon is a Star

                _“I should be the one to tell Fenris.”_

                No.

                _“I don’t know anyway around it, and I can’t bring myself to beat around the bush.”_

No – No!

                _“I’m sorry, they’re dead, Hawke’s dead.”_

This can’t be happening.

                _“They sacrificed themselves in the Fade.”_

No, _fuck_ , No NO _NO!_

                _“I don’t think there was anything anyone could do. When we got out, they weren’t there.”_

The letter in his hand’s crumpled, the words blurring together as hot tears pooled in his eyes. A part of him tried to force himself forward, to suffer in every detail even as it felt as if his chest was ripping itself open and bleeding on the wooden floor. His breath’s came in short and fast, searing the open wound as his hands shook violently, almost tearing the letter in two, something he could relate to in that very moment.

                Everything felt like it was trembling, the whole world was **rock** ing under his _feet and his **chest**_ was **_TORN OPEN_** and the _letter_ _w_ as to _rn_ _and_ everything felt _too_ **BIG** and _HEAVY_ and COLD _COLD_ **_COLD_** and _how is he still alive_!? How is he still **bre** ath **ing** how can _anything_ be **living** and **happy** and ANDRASTE **_HIS CHEST_** IT HURTS _EVerythiNG_ HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HU –

                Unable to contain his grief any longer, he opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat gave out. Even then, he sobbed silently, throwing himself against the table he was preparing to sit at before he opened the letter. Candles, papers, quills, books, the book they gave him, it all collapsed to the floor under the strong sweep of his glowing arms. The tattoos swirling over him burned hot like a supernova, reflecting off his white hair and armor and the tears rolling angrily down his cheeks. With another croaky roar and threw his arm at the wall, knocking a hole into the next room.

                As he moved to the next thing to destroy, he tripped and fell to his knees. Snarling, he looked up and suddenly his ferocity was forgotten.

                A small girl was standing half – hidden in the doorway, her big eyes staring uncomprehendingly at the destruction and, oh no, there was _fear_ in her eyes as she stared at him.

                “ _Leandra_.” Fenris choked. His voice was the sound of gravel and it felt like it too. He cleared his throat, ignoring the pain as he tried again, “Leandra.”

                She looked out to the hallway uncertainly.

                The father took a shuddering breath, “I – “ He almost said _“It’s alright”_ but it wasn’t alright, none of this was _alright_. “I’m not mad at you.” He finally said after a few stiff moments of floundering, “I’ll – I’ll stop.”

                Her brows furrowed as her lips pouted. She stared at him, then at the floor, then back before coming into full view. The poor girl was in her nightgown and her brown hair was wild with bedhead, hiding her big, pointed ears. It was the first hours of the morning, he had meant to come in quietly after a night of hunting Tevinters so that she could sleep without knowing he was gone.

                _Crap._ He thought. “Leandra, I – “

                “Papa’s hurt?”

                His throat moved but he couldn’t find his voice.

                When he didn’t answer, she stepped closer, and closer and closer. Her tiny feet hardly made a sound on the hardwood floor. Even with him down on his knees, she still had to reach up to touch his face with her chubby hands.

                For a moment, Fenris didn’t understand what was going on, then he realized

                she was wiping his tears

                and he was letting her.

                Even at two she learned not to touch her father’s tattoos carelessly. She kept her fingers on his cheek and strayed from his chin. Her little brows pinched together.

                “Are you hurt, Papa?”

                He took a sharp breath, only to release it in a long wheeze, the willpower to keep himself upright leaving with it as he reached around his daughter and held her gently against him, his face falling against her small shoulder.

                “Yes.” He admitted, holding onto his strength by a thread, “I am.”

                “Where?” She asked naively and he almost wanted to laugh.

                “Everywhere.” He said without really thinking, another spark of pain coursing through him as he thought of the ruined letter –

                He looked down and saw it was still in his hand. A chill ran down his spine and he looked away. He’d tell her later, not now, not now but sometime later, when he didn’t feel like the world would fall apart around him and the only thing keeping it together was the toddler in his arms.

                Said toddler “oh”’ed and was still for a moment before turning her head to kiss his sharp cheek. “S’that better?” she asked.

                This time he did laugh, but it was bleak, humorless. He pulled her closer and nodded because he was afraid he might start screaming if he opened his mouth again. He stayed like that for a while and she let him, fidgeting but never complaining.

                Meanwhile, Fenris’s mind took him down and down and he lost himself in a blank, watery nothingness. Vague memories sometimes swam by, smiles and laughter and warm food and a warm body and a warm feeling down in the pit of his stomach, not the cold, icy numbness he only recently came to understand. His mind brought him to the feeling of a small, warm body on his chest as he slept, soft snoring coming just from his right.

                Snoring just from his right.

                The watery grave slowly pulled away from him, retreating back to the recesses of his being as he stared at the junction of wall and floor and -

                a small warm body was being held in his arms.

                Leandra had fallen asleep.

                She was leaning heavily against him, drooling on his armor. A tight, fond smile forced itself onto his face. He forced his feet underneath him, wriggling the sleep out of them, and stood up with his daughter in his arms.

                His heel hit something and he glanced down on the very thing that tripped him earlier.

                It was A Slave’s Life.


End file.
